


Guile: Origins

by impmon03



Series: Guile: The Series [1]
Category: Chrono Cross
Genre: Action, Artificial Human, Drama, Fantasy, Gen, Humor, Original Character(s), Pre-Canon, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impmon03/pseuds/impmon03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a creature created in an unorthodox scientific experiment, Guile struggles to live like an ordinary human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Power Restriction

**Author's Note:**

> Disregard the speculation 'Guile is Magus'. It's never officially stated that he is.

**1014 AD, Cabin within a Forest**

He was just having fun. He did it because he liked the challenge. He was willing to walk around with that enormous barbell because it weighed about half a ton; it managed to slow him down a little as he carried it with a hand.

Holding the doorknob of a wooden door in front of him with only the thumb and the index finger of his left hand, he turned it gently. With a click, the door opened.

Entering the room, he saw a bald man sitting at a mahogany desk, drumming his fingers against the table.

That man was Viktor; his master, or exactly, his creator. This grandpa was the person who had taken care of him since he woke up atop a heap of junk. The moment he opened his eyes, he had no idea how he could end up in a mound of rubble, cables, and metallic scraps. That sparked him to follow Viktor, especially after he heard a 'be my son' from him.

He had lived together with Viktor for almost a year, but life sometimes was just boring. Sure, this old man had often asked him to search for numerous things in the forest surrounding this cabin, but the tasks were often too easy for him. If his master wanted food, he only had to fly to a river, dive in, and catch a big fat fish with a hand. If his master asked for lumber, he just needed to find a good tree, knock it down with a fist, and carry the sturdy, yet not too heavy trunk home.

That was how he felt. The lack of challenge in this life became the drawback of living as an overpowering creature like him.

Judging from the surroundings, he could conclude that Viktor had just worked on something. There were numerous tools and scraps of metal atop the table, but something was striking amidst the mess. A golden domino mask was there, glinting off the lights in the room.

He called out, "Master."

Viktor turned, revealing his wrinkled face. "Ah, there you are, Guile." Picking the mask up with a hand, he walked towards Guile. "I've invented something to limit your power."

Guile blinked. What did his master mean with that? Was it related to the mask he was holding?

"I've been working on this for a month," Viktor began, handing the mask to Guile. "I created it with miniature black holes, so this should drain the energy you produce too much in your body. It means that your power will be limited once you wear this mask."

"My power will be limited?" Guile asked silently, taking the mask and glaring at it for a few seconds. If it were a fact that it could weaken him, then great! Life should be more fun with limited capability instead of full power.

"Wear it and let's test it out!"

Guile nodded and put on the domino mask. Nothing seemed to happen afterwards…

Nope, such feeling only lasted for a while. Once he perceived an odd mixture of propping and ticklish sensation around his eyes, dizziness and drowsiness began to overtake his body.

All of a sudden, his right arm ached, resulting in a trembling hand. It was only a matter of seconds until he lost his grip on the huge barbell.

CRASH!

The impact of steel against timber was so hard that it sent dust and some chunks of wood flying high into the air.

He wasn't safe from that incident either. The bumper plate of the barbell squashed his right foot, snapping him out of his daze and bringing about a painful scream. Soon, his instinct gave him a massive, albeit brief strength boost. In an instant, he lifted his crushed foot and knocked the barbell away with a quick kicking motion.

Soon, it became too painful to stand properly. He sat on the floor, bending and lifting a leg. Holding his limp but swollen foot with both of his hands, he gritted his teeth and squinted.

"The mask works!" Viktor cheered, giving a thumbs-up. "I'm successful!"

Guile kept silent. His foot did hurt, but complaining wasn't his hobby. Being whiny wouldn't earn one's sympathy; instead, it might only annoy people. But in this case, it could probably be different. Viktor was a nice person, and complaining might be rewarding… Hmph, put emotional things aside. Guile knew that his master always cared for him; he would soon treat his injury.

He was correct.

"Sorry, I got too excited earlier," Viktor said, kneeling down. "You know; whenever I've reached my goal, I'm very happy."

Who wouldn't be happy when he had accomplished a goal? With that in mind, Guile smiled faintly and released his injured foot. "Never mind, Master."

"For sure, you're lucky that your bones are made of titanium; else your foot is a bye. Anyway, did you get a strange feeling on your face when you wore your mask?"

Guile nodded.

He let out a gentle smile. "It's just temporary, son. The mask hooked itself into your flesh so that it could stick on your face."

" _Hook into_ my flesh?" Guile spoke in an exasperated tone, wincing momentarily. Such thing was disgusting. But if that didn't make him feel painful, why should he care? As he thought of that, the frown on his face dissipated.

"Sorry, I couldn't find other way with limited materials here. But don't worry; there won't be a lot of bleeding when you wear your mask… Well, as long as you don't take it off, you won't bleed much."

"So I mustn't remove the mask too often?"

"Yep!" He placed his hands on Guile's foot and chanted, "Heal!"

At this, Guile felt soothing warmth on his leg and face. Like a wave, it swept away the stinging and burning sensation of his injured foot.

"This should do." Viktor released Guile's foot from his gentle grip. "If you still feel uncomfortable, just tell me. I'll fix it at Medina." He paused and smirked. "I don't have enough materials here."

Guile nodded. His foot was still aching a bit, but he spoke nothing of it and remained stern to hide how he felt. Such thing was just something minor, and complaining about it was just an exaggeration over a small problem.

"And there's another good news, son," Viktor added rapidly. "You often said that things were too easy for you, right? You'll never say that anymore from now on!"

 _Viktor was right_ , Guile thought. A life full of challenges was what he enjoyed, and with this mask on his face, he had it.

"Now, get up, son. Let's confirm if the mask is working properly," Viktor said, standing up. "There will be some difficult tasks for you."

Guile stood up, grinning at the term 'difficult tasks.' Being too powerful had made him crave for such thing.

"Try picking up the barbell. I didn't ask you to carry it around for nothing earlier."

Guile nodded at the command. Hunching, he grabbed the shaft of the barbell with a hand and tried to lift it… Unfortunately, he failed. The weight barely budged even when his arm had gone numb and refused to work. Soon, he let go of the barbell.

"Well, the mask seems to work." Viktor chuckled. "Anyway, you're giving up so fast?"

Oh, what had Viktor just said… Such challenge excited him, while his master's words were just adding some spices to his zest.

"I can lift it," Guile said flatly, staring at the barbell. If one arm failed, then he would try lifting it with two arms.

Oh, this should be fun.

He hunched and grabbed the metal bar with both of his arms. Face contorted, he growled as he struggled to pull the barbell into the air. It was heavy, but slowly, he managed to lift it a few centimeters above the ground.

"Keep it up, son!"

Guile roared loudly; passion was palpable in his voice. He was going to succeed. He was going to succeed! _He was going to succeed!_

The barbell was now in the same height with his thighs. Beads of sweat were dribbling down his scowling face and stiff body as he tried to lift it higher. However, his arms were now trembling. He might soon lose his grip on the heavy object.

Wait, the challenge was here! Why should he be giving up now?

He roared again as he tried to carry the barbell higher.

"I think that's enough."

What? So soon?

Guile was still spirited. He was not going to stop until this thing reached the area above his head. Unfortunately, his arms didn't cooperate; numbness suddenly overtook his hands, prompting them to release the barbell.

CRASH!

Thanks to the metallic bar between the bumper plates, Guile's feet were safe. However, the wooden floor wasn't. The impact had created two holes on the ground with large splinters of timber jutting out from the sides of the metallic plates.

"Good thing you stopped that, son," Viktor said. "I was worried when your arms got shaky all over."

"I'm fine, master." Guile huffed. "I admit that this is tiring, but I…" He smiled. "I liked it."

"Heh, that's what I'm expecting from you."

Wiping the sweat from his temple with an arm, Guile asked, "Anything else?"

There was a brief pause before Viktor replied, "Let's go out to get some fresh air and the newspaper. The newspaper boy should be here now."

Together with his master, Guile reached for his boots beside the exit door and walked out of the cabin.

**1014 AD, Northwestern Forest of Medina**

Outside, there was nothing but clusters of trees. Leaves were dropping off and swaying in the air slowly before landing on the uneven ground.

"The newspaper boy is late," Viktor muttered.

Guile looked around to see if his master were correct. It seemed to be yes, as it was silent except for the noise of rustling leaves.

All of a sudden, a sturdy rod-like object struck him on the face. He jerked away in the moment of shock, but he soon regained his composure. With a hand, he picked up the thing that had just hit him; a solid wooden stick wrapped in a newspaper.

"Mister? You got hit?"

That childlike voice was familiar. Yes, it was, especially when Guile could see a short, black-haired boy walking out of the towering trees.

It was Ben; the newspaper boy who seemed to breathe air of mystery around him. He did not only offer newspaper subscription to Viktor without any clear reasons, but he also knew Viktor's and Guile's names before they even introduced themselves. Such thing was too strange to be a coincidence, but Ben just looked…too innocent to be behind something else.

"It's weird, Mister," Ben commented. "You always catch it with your teeth, but today you don't."

Viktor smirked. "Hey, lad. See something strange with Guile?"

"He got hit by my newspaper!"

"Uh, I think Master Viktor has known that," Guile said in a flat but friendly tone.

"Then what?" Ben scratched his head, looking at Guile's face for a moment. "Oh, I know! A mask!"

Guile smiled and nodded.

"Why couldn't Guile catch the newspaper?" Viktor asked, before answering the question by his own, "It's because of the mask."

"What do you mean?" Ben blinked. "This mask weakens Guile?"

"It limits his power."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe it!"

"Oh, come on. This is the third time I see that the mask works, so you'd better believe it."

"I want a proof other than the newspaper problem earlier!"

Viktor smacked his own face with a hand. "Oh boy…" He turned to Guile. "Prove him that the mask really works, Guile."

Ben giggled. "Guile is still very strong; I'm sure of it!"

"No, I'm not that powerful anymore," Guile muttered. "I shall prove it."

Ben finally burst out laughing. "I don't think you can be weaker just because of wearing a mask!"

"Whatever," Guile said flatly; his voice giving out a hint of annoyance.

"Try catching this arrow of lightning with a hand." Viktor pointed at Guile. Seconds later, the tip of his index finger emitted purple radiance.

"I know how it will end: Guile catches the arrow!"

Viktor only smirked as electric current crackled along his hand. Soon, the sparks of thunder flowed into the tip of his index finger. They merged, forming an arrow of violet lightning in front of the said digit. With a buzz, the crackling bold of energy set off in lightning speed.

Seeing this, Guile thought that this was going to be fun. The thunder arrow was almost invisible, and catching it should be challenging.

Fingers curled slightly, he stood still like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

Whooosh!

At this, Guile sensed the stench of scorched flesh coming from his left cheek. Everything happened way too fast for him to follow.

"See?" Viktor questioned, grinning. "The mask limits Guile's capability."

"I still can't believe it!" Ben wondered out loud with his eyes widening. "No, no, no! I'll tag along with you then! This can't be true!"

"I'm fine with that, but if you insist that the mask doesn't work, you'll be disappointed," Viktor replied calmly.

"I will enjoy having you around, Ben." Guile smiled. "Do you have any interesting challenges? They provide joy for me and will probably satisfy your curiosity about my mask."

"Challenges, huh?" Ben asked. He paused for a moment, before saying, "Knock a tree down with bare hands! That should be fun for you!"

Guile nodded and grinned. He would need to exert more strength to destroy a tree now.

With that, he walked away, before stopping in front of a tree. Sturdy as it seemed, the tree was just tall. It stood about three times taller than he was.

Smirking, he clenched his fists and pulled them back, signifying that he would gladly destroy this tree.

BOOM!

He had slammed a fist against the trunk, and the result was pretty good for someone with limited power. The impact had managed to carve some minute fissures on the bark. But he would try delivering a few more blows before stopping. Ben had challenged him to destroy the tree, not just etching cracks upon its stout stem.

Large crevices were forming on the bark as his knuckles met the trunk. He wasn't going to stop anytime soon, although an uncomfortable feeling began to build up in his fists. It wasn't pain; instead, there was something like…some sort of sticky fluid trickling down the back of his hands.

Suddenly, his ears perceived a loud, raspy voice. "That's enough, son! Your hands!"

Those words prompted him to stop punching and shift his attention to his hands. It wouldn't hurt to have a break for a moment. Well, pausing to take a peek on his hands didn't hurt in any harmful way; instead, it was just a little disturbing to the eyes. The view of swollen and bruised flesh with innumerable bleeding scrapes met his sight.

"Guile, don't ever accept impossible challenges! You'll injure yourself!"

Upon hearing that, he felt a gentle touch on his back. A torrent of soothing warmth traveled across his body as he heard a loud 'heal.' Knowing what should be happening, he took a quick glance at his hands, on which his wounds were sealing themselves shut.

Without turning to look at his master, he muttered, "I'll keep trying, master."

"Don't be silly!" Viktor scolded. "You can't destroy a big tree with your bare hands when masked!"

"It's worth trying doesn't it?" he replied flatly, not caring much about Viktor's warnings.

He then slammed his fists into the tree trunk. More and more cracks were appearing and spreading across the bark for each collision.

Success would soon be his. He only needed to keep punching and ignore any pestering objects from the surrounding. Yes, Viktor's complaints included in his mental list of nuisances, even though the old man was his master. Guile just enjoyed trying, while obeying Viktor completely would only spoil the fun.

All of a sudden, as Guile landed his knuckles on the stem, the cracks spread wider and were circling the trunk very quickly. He stepped back, watching the tree tumbling backward and bringing about an earth-shaking boom.

He chuckled at the fallen tree. "See? I was successful because I kept trying."

Soon, he turned to see a grinning Viktor with a hand clasping Ben's mouth. It was a strange sight that prompted him to ask, "Master? What's the matter?"

"Uh, nothing. I'm glad that you've knocked a tree down successfully." He looked at Guile's hands and giggled. "And you only scratched your hands from all that mess! Heh…"

Something was suspicious indeed.

"Master, if you don't let Ben go, we can't go ahead," Guile said calmly. Perhaps Ben had something important to say, whether it was about his mask or something else… That 'something else' might be something unpleasant, though.

"Er, guess I can't hide this forever, eh?" Viktor lowered his hand and slipped it into a pocket on his trousers. "I did something you didn't like, but it was for your own good."

"What do you mean with that?" Guile asked, his tone rising. Did Viktor help him knock that tree down secretly?

"I cast a spell to…uh, destroy that tree," Viktor answered quietly. "Sorry, son, but I don't like seeing you getting hurt. You can't sense pain properly; I know that, but that doesn't mean that you're safe from infection and the likes."

Eyes widening and reddening with anger, Guile snapped, "Master, I don't need any lecture about my insensitivity to pain!" He paused. "I was trying to destroy the tree by myself, but you lent a hand! It wasn't fun anymore because of you!"

There was a pause, before Viktor smiled. "Calm down, son. You must be proud of yourself. I only used a weak wind spell to help you."

"A weak wind spell?"

"If it were something stronger, this meant that you were very weak."

"I see." Guile muttered blandly. Such reaction was what he let out because he didn't know whether he should be happy or not. He was still strong enough to damage the tree severely even when masked, but he only managed to destroy the towering thing _with_ his master's help.

"Please understand, Guile. I know you love doing something difficult, but your body has its limit," Viktor said as he walked toward Guile. "Something terrible will happen if you push yourself too hard."

Feeling too lazy to debate, Guile simply nodded. Perhaps restraining himself from doing overly extreme activities would be the best. He wouldn't cause his master to complain too much this way, while he could still have a bit of fun.

"But Grandpa, can I still challenge him?" Ben asked.

"It's okay as long as it isn't something crazy."

"How about this one, Grandpa?" the newspaper boy began. "I want to go back to Medina, and I need some protection."

"Protection?" Guile asked.

"Some bandits attacked me earlier, but luckily they let me go after I gave them my bike," Ben replied. "I had to walk all my way here because of them."

Looking at Ben, Viktor grumbled, "Stealing from a little boy? Geez, those bandits are really shameless!"

Guile grinned. His master should allow him to fight those bandits for two reasons. First, Viktor didn't like those who picked on kids. Guile didn't know the exact reason why his master would go berserk upon seeing an act of bullying, but it was probably because children were weak and innocent. Second, fighting some bandits didn't sound too extreme. It might be less fun than lifting a gigantic barbell and destroying a tree with bare hands, but something was better than nothing. Or perhaps, a battle should be more fun. It needed something more than brute strength, which was the only thing he used for the challenges earlier.

"Let us go, master?" he asked, smiling.

"Sure thing, Guile," Viktor replied. "Those who pick on children need a lesson or two. Besides, I can fix your foot at Medina if it still hurts."

Injured foot? No, no, no. That wasn't a big deal for Guile. Viktor had eased the pain with a spell.

Moments later, Viktor suddenly said, "Looking at your face, I think I can read what's in your mind right now, son."

"Huh?"

"You're very excited about this because you get the chance to fight some bandits, aren't you?"

Guile chuckled. "Yes, that's right."

"Just like I thought. Okay, you may fight, but when there's danger, run away!"


	2. Madame Fortuna

**1014 AD, Outskirts of Medina**

Butterflies hovered over the cluster of white daisies, their wings shimmering like coins in the sun. Fingers of air raked through the plush long grass, stirring up the sweet scent of wildflowers.

Guile was walking along the meadow with Viktor and Ben. He wasn't focusing on the track; the surroundings were easily forgettable for him. He was pacing whilst imagining about the bandits Ben talked about earlier. If they suddenly sprang out of nowhere and pounced on them, there would be an exciting battle.

That thought spawned a mischievous grin on his face.

"Guile?"

That innocent-sounding call snapped him out of his daydream. It was Ben, whose face was rather contorted. Such expression showed a hint of fear within him.

"Anything I can help you with? You look terrified."

"You look s-scary with that smile," the boy answered.

"Oh." He paused. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare anybody!"

"If Guile smiles like that, it's normal because he's excited," Viktor butted in. "If he scowls, it means that he's upset. It isn't dangerous though." He paused. "But if he both screams and cries, beware!"

"He already looks creepy with that smile. I don't think I ever wanna see him scowling or both screaming and crying."

"Well?" Viktor looked at Guile.

"Uh, no, I am not that short-tempered. Only certain things can put me into that condition," Guile replied. He turned to Ben, who was breathing a sigh of relief. That was good, because he meant no malice to his friends.

"Maybe we can play a game to make the situation less uptight."

"Huh?" Ben shrugged. "No toys." He looked at the wild plants beneath him. "This place is just full of grass."

Looking away, Guile racked his brain for a fun idea. A large meadow was the best for a picnic, but nobody seemed to bring food… Wait! This was a vast meadow, right? Such location made a good place for physical activities like a sprint or even a marathon.

"A running competition should be fun," Guile suggested.

Everybody stopped walking.

Scanning the surroundings quickly, Viktor said, "This meadow is huge. It's really suitable for a marathon."

Frowning, Ben complained, "I'm not strong enough for that! I'm still a child!"

"If you want a sprint, um…" Viktor scratched his head. "You can _never_ win. At least in a marathon, if you have good stamina, you have a chance to defeat Guile."

Ben stared at Viktor. "Grandpa, I've told you that I'm just a kid! I'm weak!" He paused. "I don't care about winning anyway, especially if Guile is my rival."

"No, no, no. No matter how strong your foe is, you must try your best," Guile spoke slowly and softly. "Besides, I like a worthy opponent."

"But I'm no match for you in power!"

Guile smiled. "Just try your best. As long as you enjoy the thrill of a competition, winning or losing doesn't matter at all."

"You really have to take Guile's words for competition and rivalry matters." Viktor chuckled. "Anyway, get ready for a sprint, boys!"

"Where should we stop, master?"

"Er…" Viktor rubbed his cheek with a finger. "Hmm, don't worry about that."

"Grandpa, how can there be a race without a proper finish line? You must be kidding!"

"I don't think we need any, Ben. Let's run as far as we can," Guile said. "Don't worry about winning or losing. We're just having fun."

"Guile is right, lad. Just do your best. You may have a chance to beat Guile in a race because there's no proper finish line." Viktor suddenly blushed. "Uh, I'm also counting on you, Guile!"

"Ben needs more encouragement than I do, master. It's fairer that way."

"Well, let's stop talking and start the race," Viktor replied. "On your mark."

Guile and Ben crouched, leaning forward and touching the grassy ground with their palms.

"Get set…"

Palms still touching the uneven land, Guile and Ben gradually moved into an upright position.

"Go!"

In a blink of an eye, Guile set off. The long grass blurred around him as his feet beat the earth quickly and steadily.

It was a good start for him indeed. Each step pushed him far off the land. If it had sent him higher into the air, one might have thought that he was flying. His long legs added to his running prowess as well. With them, he could cover an even larger distance.

However, there was an uncomfortable sensation creeping from one of his feet as he ran. He felt it, but he kept on running. He knew that it probably stemmed from the injury earlier, but there was no reason to stop running just to give a damn about it.

Five minutes had passed since he started running with Ben. His breath and heartbeat were growing faster and faster. His vision was blurring as well.

But those were not too bothersome for him. What eventually stopped him was that his legs ceased to function without giving any warning. There was no pain, but the muscles on the said limbs would budge no more.

He fell flat on his stomach abruptly, bringing about a grass-crunching thud as his body hit the ground.

Huffing, sweating, and palpitating, he placed his palms on the ground and pushed himself up. Unfortunately, his legs weren't cooperating with him, which led to his fall.

Guile had no idea about what caused this. His lower limbs seemed to be not very obedient. Or perhaps, they needed some rest?

 _A nap probably wouldn't hurt_ , he thought. Ben and Viktor should still be far behind him; they might take at least an hour to catch up with him. Besides, the grassland breeze was nice and cool. The invisible hands of air were caressing his face, which just strengthened his desire to sleep.

He rolled a little, enabling him to lie on his back. For him, this was a comfortable position to sleep.

Head on his hands, he closed his eyes and let the zephyr carry him off to the dreamland.

_"Hey, son! Wake up!"_

He kept sleeping.

" _Wake up already!"_

It was getting annoying as the voice grew louder.

_"How long are you going to sleep there? We've caught up with you, boy!"_

Caught up? Wait, could this mean that Ben and Viktor were around?

Those thoughts roused him. Opening his eyes, he spoke out loud in an instant, "Ah, I'm sorry! I was very tired earlier!"

The soft giggling of an old man and a child was the reply he received. Looking around, he found Viktor and Ben looming over his body.

Viktor smirked. "You thought we couldn't catch up?"

Rising to a sitting position, Guile nodded. His master was right.

"Getting cocky, aren't you, son?"

His master was neither correct nor incorrect this time. Sure, he slept because he was confident that Ben and Viktor would take a long time to catch up with him. However, there was another reason why he took a nap. He couldn't move his legs since he fell, while at the same time, the blowing wind was so fresh that it tempted him to doze.

"Heh." He chuckled. "A little cocky, Master."

"Now I know why I can beat Guile in a marathon." Ben laughed. "He can't run very far!"

"Correct."

"I wish I know how far we are from the start, grandpa."

"You wanna know how far we've gone?" Viktor asked. "Measuring from the time we needed to catch up with Guile, we had run for…" He looked at the sky, where the sun was shining at the center of the horizon. "…at least two hours. With a break or two in-between."

"Man, Guile is _that_ fast?"

"If Guile hasn't been wearing that mask…" Viktor suddenly burst out laughing.

"Master?"

"Something funny, grandpa?"

Still laughing, Viktor replied, "The mask serves to drain the excess energy from Guile's body."

Guile raised an eyebrow. "Well, I find nothing amusing with that. You don't make any sense."

"Guile, if you don't wear that mask, you produce energy at absurd rate and will never get tired. You can reach Medina in _minutes_."

"Whoa, that's amazing, grandpa!" Ben butted in.

"Unfortunately, this makes him hungry even faster. Uh, his food portion is five times more than mine."

"A day?"

"He can eat up to six times a day with that portion."

"That's crazy! But he's pretty thin."

"His body system relies partly on burning fat to produce energy, so he can eat a lot without getting chubby."

Guile snorted. "Would you kindly stop talking about my food portion? I don't live to eat. _I eat to live_."

"Eh, you always hunt for your meal, so I won't complain," Viktor responded, rubbing the back of his neck.

A long pause.

"Anyway, are you going to continue running?"

"I think we'd better get serious and walk together to Medina now," Ben said. "Earlier, after Guile started running, I was a bit afraid of bandits."

"Why should you be afraid?" Guile asked in a friendly tone. "Master Viktor is a powerful wizard. He can easily fend off those bandits."

"But the bandits earlier brought knives with them. A wizard is physically weak, right?"

"What's the matter? A skillful wizard like me can keep the foes from getting too close with magic. Throwing knives? I can just cast something like a smokescreen."

Growing impatient, Guile asked, "Shall we go, Master?"

"Yes, let's go, boys."

Guile nodded as he began walking straightforward, with Viktor and Ben following his lead.

The grassland wind blew across his face as he moved ahead. Although the sun was at its peak, the breeze managed to keep his body cool. Traveling in such moment was rather enjoyable.

Well, it was going to be more enjoyable now! He spotted three shadowy figures further in front of him, beside which a bike-like silhouette stood. His instinct told him that they were the bandits Ben talked about. Those people had the bike that might be Ben's.

Without any hesitation or further thinking, he ran toward them and jumped up high into the air. Soon, gravity pushed him down. He had anticipated it by diving down with his left leg stretched out, ready to deliver a bone-smashing kick. It was only a matter of seconds until he landed and booted a man squarely on his face. The force of his kick knocked the said man down, dealing out a bloody nose and lips to the guy.

Landing on the grassy ground with both of his feet, he quickly scanned his surroundings. A brown-haired man was walking backward, trembling and gnashing his teeth together in fear. In front of him, a grey-haired woman was looking at him, seemingly startled as implied by her twitching eyebrows and gaping mouth.

"This can't be! Don't tell me that you're on this granny's side!"

"What a day. These bandits attacked me earlier and now, the infamous monster is here."

Guile only blinked. He couldn't apprehend what they meant, especially about the 'monster.' However, he figured out that he had better put that aside. It was the best to help the old lady by attacking the man now. There was no reason not to teach this dirty coward a lesson or two.

Hmm, poking fun at such person should be nice too. The bandit trembled upon seeing him, which made him think that finding out how this coward might react at his taunt should be exhilarating.

Smiling at the shivering man, Guile said, "Sir, fight me, not this ma'am."

There was no answer, save for the chattering of the bandit's teeth.

He pointed at the man's side, on which a small leather sheath rested. "You may use your weapon if you wish. I shall fight you bare-handed."

But still, there was no answer.

"Do you bandits always do cowardly things like robbing an old lady and a child?"

Guile's statement hit the mark. The bandit finally snapped, "Damn you! I'm not a coward!" He pulled out his knife. "I'm gonna prove you that I'm not that lame!"

"Very well."

He saw the dirk coming toward him very quickly. With an effortless lift of his legs, he sidestepped and dodged the bandit's knife.

Losing balance, the man hunched temporarily, but soon, he regained his composure. With an angry red-eyed glare, he elbowed Guile's gut before thrusting his knife…

Boo! It was another miss. Guile simply sidestepped, dodging the strike and sending the bandit off-balance.

Roaring furiously, the bandit thrust his knife rapidly and randomly. None of the attacks hit the mark though. Guile's movement was fluid like water. With some simple body-bending and sidesteps, he dodged all the strikes.

 _The foe seems to be weak and harmless_ , Guile thought. _This should be a boring battle._

He turned away and shook his head. "You aren't worth fighting. Fighting you is like picking on an old lady."

Showing his back to a foe and taunting the said opponent? Such act was something silly indeed. Once a loud battle cry was audible, Guile could feel something strange on his back. He turned, only to see the bandit glaring at him with a knife plunged into Guile's back.

It was a very weak attack though. He only felt as if the bandit had just tickled him with a feather.

"At least you tried. " Smirking, he delivered a solid punch into the bandit's face. The impact knocked the man down, bringing about an audible snap as blood gushed out of his nose.

"No! I'm not going to continue this stupid fight!" the man said in a muffled voice. He then ran toward his other friend, who was still lying on the ground and unconscious. "Let's run!"

Guile watched the bandit hoisting the other man with both of his hands. Now, something interesting was happening. The bandit got into the shiny metallic bike with his fallen friend and paddled away rapidly.

Chasing them should be fun. They were riding Ben's bike, and there was nothing wrong with retrieving it for the newspaper boy. Even if it weren't Ben's bicycle because the kid had never given the specifics about the vehicle, stopping these bad guys wouldn't hurt. They needed to retire from preying on the weak.

In a flash, Guile set off, leaving a trail of smoke behind. It didn't take too long to catch up with the escaping bandits. In less than a minute, he was already running in front of the bike.

He braked and turned, emitting a loud screech as his legs scraped against the grassy ground. The terrified face of the bandit was now visible to him. A panic-stricken shout too, was audible.

Quickly, he sprang into the air and let gravity push him down. He smashed his elbow into the rider of the bike, knocking everybody off the vehicle.

As he was about to hit the ground face first, he rose to the air fast like how a bird began flying. Once he had properly positioned his legs for a touchdown, he landed on the grassy ground with both of his feet.

Knowing that he had just knocked the bandits down, he turned. The two men were sprawled on the earth, unconscious while bleeding out from their heads. Behind them, a bike was lying still like a slumbering man. Some scratches were visible on its body, but it didn't seem to have any broken parts.

He walked past the comatose men and stopped before the bicycle. Hunching and grunting, he reached out his hands to lift the vehicle. This should be heavy, as hinted by the metallic exterior.

No, the bike was rather light indeed. With both of his hands, Guile managed to lift it. The weight did slow him down as he tried to walk back to where the old lady was, but still, it wasn't as heavy as he thought earlier.

A two-minute walk was what he needed to reunite with that grandma…along with Viktor and Ben, who were already there now. All of them were looking at him, which could be a sign that they were waiting for him.

"The bandits are out cold now," he said, putting down the bicycle before looking at Ben. "Is this your bike?"

"Yes," Ben answered, getting on the metallic vehicle. "Thanks a lot, Guile!"

Guile nodded with a friendly smile on his face. Helping out a friend felt good.

"Oh gosh, Guile!" Viktor exclaimed, walking past Guile. "You've got a knife on your back!"

Guile's response was a confused 'huh.' A knife? It didn't matter too much, but the poking sensation it generated was just a little irritating.

"I know about your insensitivity to pain, but it's a bad idea to walk around with this!" Viktor pulled the dirk out of Guile back and threw it away. "Remember infection and blood loss, son! You aren't safe from them!" Glaring at the open wound, he said, "I'll heal you." He touched Guile's bleeding backside with both of his hands. "Heal!"

Soothing warmth crawled from his back to his entire body, trumping the uncomfortable feeling on his wound.

Turning his head, Guile saw his master retracting his arms. The wound on his back was already gone, although dried blood was still on the flesh and the torn cloth around it.

"Feeling better, son?"

Guile nodded.

"By the way, you can still carry that bike while wearing the mask?"

"Yes, it wasn't as heavy as I thought."

"Really?" Viktor looked at the bicycle like a scientist observing a small organism.

Glaring at Viktor, Ben snapped, "Of course this bike is light! A kid like me can't ride a heavy one!"

"There's something interesting with the material, lad," Viktor commented calmly. "It's made of titanium."

"Something is wrong with that?" Ben asked in a challenging tone.

"Er, nothing really. Titanium is expensive, so I'm a bit surprised that you can have something made of that metal."

"Bah, I use the money I get from my job! And shut up, old man!"

"Hey, calm down, lad. I'm just wondering, okay?"

Ben only let out an exasperated sigh.

Noticing Ben's sudden change of nature, Guile raised an eyebrow. It was weird to know that the usually docile newspaper boy didn't like people talking about his bike. Something just didn't feel right this way.

But after all, Ben was just a kid. One shouldn't be suspicious on an innocent child. Perhaps getting this bicycle wasn't a pleasant experience, so this boy didn't like talking about it.

"You guys are a bunch of weirdos," the old lady commented flatly, before turning to Guile. "Especially you. You're notorious, yet you help me."

Guile blinked. However, before he could understand what she had said, he could feel someone yanking his right hand. It was that granny, whose focus was now his palm.

"Hmm…"

"Ma'am?"

The old woman let go of his right hand and pulled the other one toward her face.

Guile didn't even understand what this grandma was doing. Did one's palms have anything special behind them?

Soon, the granny released his hand and stared directly into his eyes.

Leaning back with reddened cheeks and widened eyes, he stammered, "Ma'am, w-why are you l-looking at me like that?"

The old lady kept silent, but soon, she closed his eyes and spoke up with a smile. "You're interesting. Turn out that you don't deserve to be called a monster."

Eyebrows twitching, Guile asked, "Ma'am, what do you mean with this?"

"I read you," she replied calmly. "You're notorious for something that I can't find in this read, but you're actually more innocent and kind-hearted than one can imagine."

Hearing that, he couldn't help but gawk. His mouth was ajar, but no words came out from it.

"Oh, looks like you're a fortuneteller, ma'am," Viktor chimed in.

"Yes, I am," the old lady said. "I'm known as Madame Fortuna the fortuneteller. Just call me ma'am or Fortuna."

"A fortuneteller, huh?" Guile wondered out loud. He suddenly thought of an idea to poke the fun out of this granny. "What else did you get from looking at me?"

"Oh, a very interesting one. You look human outside, but you're so chaotic inside," Fortuna answered. "Under your skin, you are a patchwork of metal, magic, and animals' muscles."

Guile grinned. "That's right. I was just testing you."

"You're amazing, Fortuna!" Viktor praised.

Fortuna chuckled. "Heh, I've been working as a fortuneteller for many years, so I have a lot of experience. Doesn't mean I can read through everything though."

There was a long pause, before Guile began, "Ma'am, may I know why are those bandits after you?"

"Oh, those guys." Fortuna chortled. "They're real cowards. They only rob children and elders. It's ironic that they don't like being called 'cowards.'"

"Ah, no wonder why that newspaper boy lost his bike earlier." Viktor turned to look at Ben, but the boy was nowhere to be found. "Lad? Where are you?"

"Master, there's something suspicious with Ben," Guile said softly. "He suddenly changed when you commented about his bike. Now, he left without saying anything."

"You can't be serious!" Viktor yelled. "He's just a kid!"

"Sir, sometimes people are deeper than you think," Fortuna commented.

"This…can't…be!"

"I thought it should've been better if you had read that boy, ma'am."

"Too bad I didn't."

"Hmm, I think we can forget about it for now." Guile closed his eyes and smirked, rubbing his stomach with a hand. The chase earlier had made him hungry.

A man's voice came, "Hungry, huh?"

Guile turned to see Viktor, who appeared to have recovered from the shock earlier. His master's frown had disappeared; a smile was now on his wrinkled face instead.

"Master?"

"I don't bring food, so we'd better eat at Medina."

"Oh, no, you can't!" Fortuna said. "This hungry man-"

Viktor interrupted, "Like what you've learned from 'reading' him, his interior is very different from-"

"I know, I know." Fortuna paused. "People at Medina won't welcome him because of his reputation. He had been branded as 'monster' since Magic Guild was destroyed."

"Then let's just convince those people that he isn't evil! That isn't his fault, really!"

"It won't be easy."

With his hands in the pocket of his trousers, Guile turned away. "I don't even know what actually I've done to the point I'm that notorious."

Viktor patted Guile's back. "Don't worry, son. Let's forget about that for now."

"You two still wanna go to Medina?" Fortuna suddenly interrupted, changing the entire topic of the conversation.

Guile and Viktor nodded.

"Let's go together then," Fortuna replied. "I have an appointment with the blacksmith there."

"Blacksmith? That sounds good. I can fix Guile's foot there."

"Reputation, sir, reputation."

Guile growled, "Quit talking about my false notoriety!" With a look of fierce determination on his face, he cracked his fists. "I never have any malicious intent toward people!"

"The best thing we can do is providing a proof, son. Let's head to Medina now and show the people that you're a good boy."


	3. Fisherman's Friend, Part 1

**1014 AD, Medina Residential Area**

_I am a monster?_

That question kept ringing in Guile's mind. He had never known that he was extremely destructive. At least, before wearing the mask, his power was inhuman; he admitted that. However, he had no memory of doing anything malicious to the people around.

Unfortunately, that thought saddened him more once he saw how people reacted upon his arrival at Medina. As he walked past a few houses, he could hear the unwelcoming slams of windows and doors. Everybody had shut every access to their homes.

"See? This is the problem," Fortuna said.

"Ma'am, I've never done anything bad!" Guile cried out.

"I know you never, but the people here won't believe such thing."

"You're an experienced fortuneteller, right? The people here will listen to you! Tell them!"

"I don't think telling will work," Viktor advised. "Showing is better, son."

"How can I do that if nobody welcomes me?" Guile snapped, pointing at the houses. "They've slammed all the doors and windows shut!"

"Son, this is very unusual of you."

Hearing that, Guile calmed down and blinked. "Master?"

"You hardly ever get angry, even when you're facing an extremely difficult matter," Viktor muttered. "Anyway, you must always remember that throwing tantrums does nothing good." He smiled and poked his own head with a finger several times. "Stay cool and think, son. There's a way to meet those people."

Viktor's words inspired him. He now remained quiet, stroking his chin and racking his brain for an idea. How could he gain access to people?

Wait! Fortuna had an appointment with the smith around. By utilizing her relationship with the blacksmith, there should be a chance. Smirking, he turned to Fortuna. "Ma'am, let's go to the smithy."

The old lady raised an eyebrow and looked directly into Guile's eyes. "You're hiding something, aren't you?" She shrugged. "Okay, I'll help a little, but there's no promise that the blacksmith will let you in."

"See?" Viktor gave Guile a friendly smack on the back. "I know you can do it."

"The smithy is at the south." Fortuna walked past Guile quickly. "Let's go."

Walking down the street was just like strolling around a ghost town. There was no sound. All the houses surrounding the path had shut the windows and doors. If now were nightfall, it would have been creepier.

It took three minutes for the threesome to arrive in front of a cubical stone hut, or exactly the smithy, as written on a plank above the door.

"Hey, Max!" Fortuna called out, knocking on the door. "Madame Fortuna here."

With a click, the door opened slowly. A brown-bearded man glanced outside by pressing himself against it, before rocketing backward and slamming it shut.

"Max! We have an appointment, right?"

A muffled scream of a man was audible. "Why the hell are you bringing along that monster, Fortuna! He's gonna kill us!"

"Max, listen to me. This guy doesn't deserve to be called a monster. I've read him, and he isn't as bad as people say."

The door opened a little for the man to peek. "You sure?"

Guile stepped forward. "Sir, I am not a monster. I don't randomly hurt people and destroy something."

"R-really?"

"C'mon, Mr. Blacksmith. Just let us in and I'll tell you something about him," Viktor uttered in a convincing tone. "Don't be afraid of Guile. He's a good boy."

"O-okay, I t-trust you."

**1014 AD, Medina Blacksmith**

The workshop was neat despite being a hotchpotch of random items. Many bulky leather sacks and a few wooden chairs were resting against the wall. A wooden bed was leaning against the northeastern corner of the room. Further beside it, a bronze weapon rack lay with a few broadswords, double-edged axes, and spears on display. Next to the array of arms, an anvil stood between a fireplace and a sturdy stone table with a toolbox on its top.

"Well, this is my simple smithy," Max said.

"Isn't there a kitchen?" Guile inquired quietly. He was reluctant to ask this question, but he was starving. He hadn't eaten anything since he went out of the forest with Viktor and Ben, and the bandit chase had made him even hungrier.

"Manners, Guile. Manners," Viktor whispered. "We barely know this blacksmith."

Max ignored Viktor's statement and simply let out, "I don't need a kitchen."

"How do you eat then?"

"I eat at the inn every day. I can afford that," Max replied. "But sometimes, to save some money, I tag along with my brother." The blacksmith paused. "He's a fisherman, so whenever he catches fish, he sells most of them before giving the rest for the chef at the tavern to have them cooked."

"That doesn't sound right to me," Guile muttered. "Better sell all the fish and use the money to buy more food at the tavern."

"You don't understand. We only need to pay the spices and the service. It's cheap."

"Uh, well… That doesn't sound like something I would do." Guile placed a hand on his gut and looked down, listening to the soft growls of his stomach. His hunger tempted him to outright say that he was starving, but as his master had warned, they barely knew Max. His bad reputation wouldn't help either.

Being lost in thoughts had resulted in Fortuna catching him off-guard. "Hungry, but too shy to admit it?"

Guile blushed, but he nodded anyway. He wouldn't get past a fortuneteller easily if he told a lie.

Max suddenly laughed aloud. "I've just realized something. This guy looks too innocent to be the monster everybody is talking about. I mean, which monster won't go mad when hungry?"

"See?" Viktor gave a thumbs-up, smiling proudly. "I've told you that Guile is a good boy"

"If you're hungry, you can visit my brother's cottage by the eastern seaside. Warning you though; he isn't a very nice person."

Curious and a little confused, Guile inquired, "Not very nice? How?"

"It's unlikely that he'll give you some food, especially that you're so infamous. Also, he probably won't hesitate to attack you."

Guile smiled and turned away. "If that's true, then I'll gladly meet him."

"You're crazy!"

"It's the most rewarding thing I can do now. First, there's the thrill. Second, I can eat."

"You're a strange guy, but if you wanna try, then go ahead."

Without answering Max, Guile muttered, "Master, let's go."

"Wait a minute, son."

Guile turned to look at Viktor and blinked. What did his master mean with that? Viktor's focus wasn't at him either.

"Fortuna, are you staying here?" Viktor asked.

"Yes, I have a business here," Fortuna replied. "Max has promised to forge a rod for me, so I'll stay here to manage everything related to that."

"Okay, so I'll just travel with Guile." Viktor turned to Guile before walking past him and heading toward the exit door. "Let's go, son."

Guile nodded, and together with his master, he walked out of the smithy.

**1014 AD, Medina**

It was devoid of noise, save for howling breeze and light footsteps. Surrounding Guile and Viktor was buildings of all sizes, yet they only added to the desolated atmosphere. Windows and doors were all shut; all the townspeople were hiding inside their houses.

Such sight was quite discouraging for Guile, who still didn't understand why he was so terrifying. He couldn't recall any terrible things he had done to the point people avoided him like a plague.

No, no, no. All the accusations about him being a monster were just an issue. As far as he knew, there was no proof him being destructive. He shouldn't have worried too much about something that had no evidence. Also, he knew that as long as he was nice, he could probably earn people's trust. He had experienced that earlier, in which Max refused to consider him as a monster after seeing his behavior. Showing good attitude should work in gaining Max's brother's trust, too!

It took almost ten minutes for him to get out of Medina Residential Area with his master by foot. Now, he could tell how close they were to the seaside. Stone paths were non-existent. There was no sign of damp earth, nor was there grass. Soft sand had replaced such terrain.

The scenery of a sea was in sight. The waves thundered in constantly, making loud splashing sounds upon slapping the sand. The surf brought streamers of seaweed rolling into the shore, staining the brown land with green tint.

There wasn't much wind, though. If strong zephyr were present, specks of dust might have flown into Guile's eyes; the man would never have been able to observe the panorama of a sea because of that. Unfortunately, no breeze meant no cooling off; sweating profusely had inflicted a continuous discomfort upon his body. It didn't hurt of course, but having wet cloth sticking into his skin was just irritating.

The uncomfortable sensation didn't last very long. Guile could soon feel a continuous gust of wind blowing from his right side. It wasn't strong enough to chill him to the core, but it could at least, stop his perpetual perspiration.

"Feeling nicer, son?"

Guile turned, and upon seeing Viktor, he had just realized something. His master's right palm was facing at him; swirling semi-transparent threads of wind were coming out from the flat, yet rough surface.

He looked ahead and nodded, still enjoying the zephyr from Viktor's hand.

"I'm glad you do," Viktor remarked.

Moments later, something caught Guile's interest. Amidst the dunes, the silhouette of a pointy-roofed hut rested. His intuition told him that the little house should belong to Max's brother. Well, which fisherman wouldn't want to live so close to the sea?

He walked at an average pace, allowing his master to follow him with ease. It only took less than five minutes for them to arrive before the wooden door of the stone cottage. The building loomed before them, sheltering them from the scorching sunlight with its shadow.

"I think this is it," Viktor spoke out.

Remaining silent, Guile stepped forward.

_Knock, knock, knock._

No answer.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Still quiet.

_Knock, knock, knock._

The silence was basically the straw that broke a camel's back. Going so far with an empty stomach, and there was no reward for that? How annoying! Angry, but still retaining a calm exterior, Guile turned the doorknob and stepped into the cottage slowly.

"Huh? Do you even think before trying to open the door like that? You're just lucky that it isn't locked!"

Guile heard that, but he remained silent. There was something interesting in his sight now. A tall man stood upright before him; his sleeveless shirt and shorts showing off his bulging muscles. He was pointing a spear on Guile's direction; its thin, jagged tip ready to impale.

"Stop right there, monster! Ya ain't gonna lay a finger on my catch until yer body has more holes than a beehive!"

Guile simply smirked. "I'll clobber you until you share some of your catch with me then."

From behind him, Viktor spoke softly, "Uh, stop it, both of you." But nobody cared.

"I'm gonna skewer ya now, monster!" the man roared, thrusting his spear.

But Guile saw through the attack. It was a reckless, poorly-aimed jab. What it took to avoid damage was only a step to the side.

This wasn't going to be an exciting fight.

"How boring," Guile muttered with a palm on his face. "I thought you would be a worthy opponent because of your muscular stature." He paused. "I shouldn't have judged a book by its cover."

His speech was insulting indeed. The man, now screaming with bloodshot eyes and reddened face, launched random attacks at Guile.

In no way he could dodge everything now. The jagged steel edge came from everywhere; it was as though he were in a forest of jabbing and swinging metal blades. However, he found this thrilling enough. He might have bloody gashes on all over his body, but such injuries meant he was facing a worthy foe.

The battle should be fun now.

Yes, it was indeed. Even when he heard a shout directed to him coming from behind, he didn't give it a damn. For him, it would be a waste of time if he cared about the loud "Stop it!" in this increasingly intense battle.

With his heart and breathing rate increasing like crazy, he let out a mischievous grin. As he did, though, his opponent stopped attacking and took a step backward, trembling with a pair of widening eyes.

"Tired?" he asked, daring the man. "If you are, share me some of your food and let's end this."

"No way, monster!" the fisherman replied, pulling back his spear. "Argh!"

The pointed metallic blade came at a frightening pace. However, a single strike wasn't something difficult to avoid. Guile only moved his body a little, and the spear stabbed through nothing but the empty air.

In that time frame, Guile immediately grabbed the steel pole of the spear. He grunted and pulled it, drawing the man close to his chest. He kneed the man's stomach shortly after, sending him tumbling backwards.

The same blow also gave Guile another advantage. It had resulted in the man letting go of the spear and leaving it in Guile's grasp. Poking the fallen man's head with the blunt bottom of the spear, he let out a playful, yet fierce glare. "You'd better share your catch with me now. If you don't, I'll turn this spear the other way round."

There was a moment of silence, before the man suddenly snapped, "I'll never share my food with a monster! NEVER!"

Guile nodded and spun the spear. With the pointy tip at the front, he pressed it against the man's head.

"YOU LUNATIC! STOP IT ALREADY!"

That ear-splitting scream couldn't mean something good.

As Guile turned, he saw Viktor running toward him. Smack! Receiving a swift slap to the face didn't hurt even a bit, but it only had him confused.

"You know, son, I feel bad whenever I have to slap you. But you're going too far. You're about to kill someone!"

"I only do what I feel is the best."

"You idiot! That will just make your reputation worse!"

Oh, no! Notoriety wasn't what Guile wanted! He had better find a way to solve his conflict with the man now.

He returned his attention to the man who attacked him earlier. Well, the solution was there. Unlike him, whose body was full of bleeding gashes, the fisherman was perfectly unscathed.

"It is unfair if you deem me as a monster now," Guile calmly began. "Look at your body and compare it with mine. Do you sustain any injuries?"

The man inspected himself for a moment, before looking at Guile. His widened eyes and his slightly ajar mouth showed a hint of guilty within him. But it appeared that he didn't want to show any remorse. "Hmph, you're still a monster to me. You almost killed me!"

"If I were, I'd have torn you to shreds."

Guile seemed to gain an upper hand with that line. Although he received no answer from the man, who was now walking away from him, he was sure that the man had calmed down.

Suddenly, he felt a gentle touch on his back, followed with soothing warmth spreading to his entire body. It should be his master healing him. Looking down on his torso, he could see the neat edges of his gashes moving closer to each other until they were completely shut. He seemed much better than before now, although he didn't look very tidy. His white coat was tattered with stains of blood.

"Son, you didn't hurt the man at all…?"

Guile turned and shook his head. "I was just trying to get some food from him _peacefully_." He shrugged. "But this man was hostile and insisted not to share his food with me. I thought using force was the best."

"Sometimes you have to think. Using fists won't always work." Viktor pointed at his own head. "Use your brain, son. It can solve more problems than your muscles." Lowering his hand, he added, "Better apologize to that man when he returns."

Apologizing to that man? Could a simple 'sorry' and some reasons make that grouchy man happy?

"That won't work, Master."

"Huh? What crap is in your head right now?" Viktor snapped. "You're getting stranger and stranger, Guile!"

"Master, actions speak louder than words, don't they?" Guile replied. "If I apologize, it's just pathetic." He took a deep breath. "There must be something I can do to show him that I am no monster."

Viktor sighed. "Have it your way then, boy."

There was a moment of silence before sounds of heavy footsteps suddenly echoed, followed with the rattling of wood and plastic.


	4. Fisherman's Friend, Part 2

**1014 AD, Medina Seaside Cottage**

The noises prompted Guile to walk ahead with his fists clenched. He had a hunch that the man was probably arming himself with stronger equipments to attack him. It didn't make him worry anyway; instead, he was eager to fight back if his feeling were true.

"Son, sometimes you're a brainless boy."

"I will only fight back if he attacks again."

All of a sudden, there was a loud shout coming as a burly man walked out of the shadows, carrying three fishing rods and a metallic toolbox. "What the hell are you thinking about? Me? Attacking you?" He spitted. "I'm just goin' fishin' to relax my nerves!"

"Hmm, I see." Guile nodded. He had no interest in picking on someone who hadn't provoked him. His hunger did tempt him to ask the man for some food, either with or without force; however, he knew that the man was just going to have fun. That became why he would rather starve.

Without saying anything, the man walked past Guile.

Such behavior baffled, yet interested Guile. He kept looking at the fisherman, and that act spawned another question. Why was he bringing three fishing rods instead of one?

"Sir?" Guile called out.

The man halted. "Yeah, what?"

"Your fishing rod. You bring three."

Walking toward the exit door, the man replied, "You wanna eat, right?"

Huh? This jerk was nicer than before to be honest. "Yes," Guile answered under his breath. He couldn't bring himself to talk aloud as he didn't want to anger the man.

"Then follow me. But you gotta catch the fish by yourself." The man looked at Guile. "You're lucky that I let ya join me fishin', monster."

"Sir, don't worry," Viktor suddenly said. "The guy you call 'monster' won't harm you as long as I'm around."

Wouldn't harm anybody as long as Viktor was around? There was something wrong with that. Guile wouldn't keep silent if the fisherman attacked him again. That little error in his master's statement grated his nerves, but Guile didn't speak up. It wouldn't be a good idea to correct it, as that might just draw an unwanted conflict.

"I hope so," the man uttered, standing outside the hut. "Anyway, call me Marco."

**1014 AD, Eastern Coast of Medina**

Sounds of squawking seagulls and waves splashing against the sand echoed across the horizon. Gentle wind was blowing across the seaside, bringing the salty fragrance of the sea with it.

Strolling at this moment was nice for Guile. There was no more wet cloth sticking to the skin, which meant that there was no more uncomfortable feels. What made it even better was that the breeze was fair. It wasn't strong enough to blow dust into his eyes, while its strength was sufficient for refreshment.

He and Viktor followed Marco all the way to a dock further in front of them.

"If you wanna fish, go ahead and use my rod. If no, you can just enjoy the view, but no food for you." Marco stopped at the end of the dock and put down all the fishing tools. "And why the hell are you still bringing that spear? Spearfishing isn't easy and won't get ya a fish unless you're sharp!"

"Yeah, Guile," Viktor added. "Just use a fishing rod. It's fun and easy."

"Hmm…" Guile put away the spear and picked up a fishing rod. Looking at it, he sported a confused expression on his face and scratched his head. He had never used something like this to catch a fish… But why was there a fish at the end of the line? Was it just pure luck? If yes, he could just devour it here and now.

He decided to observe the fish. Unfortunately, a closer look on it gave him bad news. At first, it did look quite tasty, but it actually wasn't a fish. The metallic hook attached to its underbelly made it obvious that it was inedible.

Sighing noisily, he put the rod down and shifted his attention to the spear he had been bringing along with him. He would rather use the traditional way to catch a fish now.

"You don't know how to use a fishing rod, son?"

Guile shook his head.

"I'll teach you then." Viktor took a fishing rod and sat on the floor. "Look at this, son." He cast the line into the water. "When it shakes, it means that a fish gets caught in the bait's hook." He pointed at the reel. "After that, spin this reel and you'll get a fish. Be careful, though. Fish will always try to run away, and if it's strong enough, your line will break and it'll escape with the bait."

Guile nodded. He had understood how to use a fishing rod. He only had to sit down, cast the line, wait until the pole shook, and spin the reel to get a fish. It sounded simple. Hopefully, it was that easy in reality.

He sat on the ground, grabbed the fishing rod, and cast the line. Now, all he needed was just waiting.

He was lucky! As soon as the bait submerged, he could feel a mild tremor on his rod.

Grinning, he spun the reel rapidly. Surprisingly, he didn't feel like the fish was running away. He could reel it in smoothly and quickly. It made him assume that he caught a small fish, but he didn't mind about the size now. A tiny little sardine would also comfort his stomach in this moment of hunger.

A few seconds later, he could only grit his teeth, tighten his grip on the fishing rod, and stare at his catch with a pair of widened eyes. He hadn't reeled a fish in; instead, he had caught a small streamer of seaweed.

He believed it was inedible rubbish. As he released it from the hook and was about to throw it back into the sea, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him: "Just keep it, son! It's edible and nutritious."

He blinked. This weed was that good?

He inspected the seaweed and spotted some sand on its drenched surface. Knowing that he'd better get rid of it, he waved the weed as if he were waving a wet cloth. The sand fell into the sea below as the leafy object swayed, but a small amount of it was still there. Bah, how troublesome could that amount of sand be? He'd rather proceed to the next step of learning about this plant.

He sniffed the seaweed, sensing saltiness emanating from it. Well, it wasn't a big deal, because he knew that most delicious food was salty. This weed should make a fine snack.

He wanted to try it now. He shoved it into his mouth and munched it. It was at least as crispy as a deep-fried fish fillet, which was why chewing the weed produced loud cracking noises. The saltiness of the newfound food did make him wince, but he swallowed it in the end.

All of a sudden, there was a loud shout: "For Heaven's sake, Guile! You ate and swallowed it?"

Guile turned to look at Viktor and smile at him. "It's very salty, but I like it. It's as crunchy as crackers and the likes."

Viktor smacked his own face with a hand of his. "We're supposed to clean it first! You know why you could say that about the seaweed?" He paused to take a deep breath, before yelling, "The seawater made it salty, while the sand made it crispy!"

"As long it's edible, why bother?" Guile answered nonchalantly.

"You can get sick!" Viktor scolded. "Don't just think that because you can't feel pain, you're safe from vomiting and diarrhea!"

Guile only shrugged. "If I think too much, there won't be anything for me to eat."

"Son, sometimes I can't understand you." Viktor turned away and sighed. "If that's how you think, fine. Let's just continue fishing then."

Upon returning his focus to the sea, Guile cast the line again. Whether he would catch seaweed or fish, he didn't mind. They were all edible.

Unfortunately, he had no luck in fishing this time. He had spent a few minutes sitting and waiting, but his fishing rod had never trembled. Nothing had ever struck his bait. However, he decided to give it another chance. After all, it was the most practical way to get some food for now.

Five minutes had passed, but he hadn't felt any tremors on his fishing rod. It was just aggravating. His stomach was hurt and growling, while he hadn't caught anything edible. This experience enabled him to conclude about the efficacy of fishing rod and spear. A fishing rod wasn't as effective as people said after all.

Now, he had only one thing in his mind: use the old way to catch a fish. Sure, spearfishing would make him wet all over, but he believed it was better than a boring, fruitless wait.

He reeled the bait in fast and put the fishing rod aside. Quickly, he stood up, took off his coat, and picked up the spear beside him.

He was ready to spear some fish. In a blink of an eye, he jumped off the dock.

Splash!

As the lower half of his body was immersed in the water, he heard a familiar shout: "Silly boy. Why are you still doing the hard way when you're given the easy one?"

But Guile simply held his breath and dived into the seawater. Responding to that statement would only waste the precious time he needed to spear some fish.

Well, if he had cared about it, he probably wouldn't have suffered a blurry vision. But why should he care either? He could still see stuff underwater. Fish were either grey lines or ellipses skimming across the water. And a few of those grey things were in his sight.

This should be easy. He could skewer something with a thrust of his spear.

Whoosh!

Bubbles traced the path of his thrust, obscuring what he had probably caught with his spear. As soon as they cleared, though, Guile only earned disappointment. He hadn't speared any fish; instead, he appeared to have scared off the aquatic animals. The grey shapes were spreading away fast.

Seeing this, an idea sparked in his mind. If he thrust the spear rapidly and randomly, he could probably catch some fish.

Smirking, he stabbed the water quickly and almost invisibly. The metal blade struck everywhere underwater, yielding a bloody result. Redness and chunks of flesh were now staining the water. This told him that he had probably speared some fish.

Yes, he had. His spear had pierced an unlucky fish and torn some small aquatic animals apart. For now, he thought that he had better 'deposit' his catch to his master. He couldn't hunt more with a dead fish occupying almost the entirety of the spear's blade.

With a flick of his feet, he propelled himself upward.

Seconds later, he emerged from the sea with the lower half of his body still underwater. He could now breathe freely and see clearly. He flicked his feet again, launching himself into the air. He then flew toward the dock and land on the sturdy wooden floor with both of his feet.

There, Viktor greeted him with a smile. "You caught a mackerel!"

"A spear works better than a fishing rod."

"I don't think so." Viktor turned and pointed at a fourteen-inch-long white sea bass resting beside his fishing rod. "I got a big one. Marco helped me."

Guile walked past Viktor and knelt down, looking at the fish. He couldn't help but salivating upon looking at the big fat fish. This should make a great meal.

All of a sudden, he felt a soft pat on his back. He turned in response and saw Viktor giggling at him.

"Be patient, son! We'll soon have it cooked!"

"Not so fast," Marco's gruff voice chimed in as he was suddenly visible behind Viktor. "Y'know, there's a deal we gotta talk about."

Those words prompted Guile to stand up and shift his attention to Marco.

Staring at the fisherman with an exasperated look on his face, Viktor asked, "What's the matter? We caught these fish by ourselves, and they are ours."

"Move aside, gramps!" Marco barked. "There's something I gotta talk with this guy."

Viktor took a step to the side, enabling Marco to walk closer to Guile.

"Those fish ain't all yours!" Marco snapped, scowling.

"Why not?" Guile raised the tone of his voice. "We caught them by ourselves!"

"You used my tools to catch them! You gotta share some fer me!"

 _Marco is right_ , Guile thought. That was a little disappointing, but if he argued, it wouldn't do any good.

He remained silent, deep in thoughts. He was estimating how many fish Marco would receive… Wait! Without Marco's tools, he and Viktor couldn't catch anything! So this brash fisherman deserved a lot, or probably, the whole catch!

"Sir, to be fair, you deserve most of these fish. Without you, Master Viktor and I couldn't catch anything," Guile said calmly. "Take as many as you wish, sir."

"Ya really mean it?" Marco asked, his frown turning into a shocked expression.

Guile simply nodded.

That resulted in a strange reaction from Marco. The fisherman bowed and muttered, "You don't seem like a monster at all. You're so nice. I thought I could just be an asshole to ya and do whatever I wanted because of yer infamy."

Looking at the tears welling in Marco's eyes, Guile asked, "Sir?"

Marco turned away. "Nothing. I've just got sands in my eyes." He sauntered towards his toolbox, fishing rod, and a twenty-inch-long white sea bass. Picking them up, he turned to Guile and flashed him a tearful smile. "Let's go to the inn. I'mma have these fish cooked."

Guile gave out a wide smile as he hunched to pick up Viktor's sea bass.

"I think it all ends well," Viktor commented. "Guile finally gets to eat."

"C'mon, mates!" Marco walked past Guile and Viktor. "Let's stash all the tools and…it's party time!"

**1014 AD, Medina Residential Area**

The village of Medina remained as silent and desolate as usual. Nobody was wandering around the streets. Merchants had left their item stands empty. The doors and the windows of the surrounding buildings too, were all shut.

"People here are afraid of you, mate," Marco began flatly. "Not sure if the inn is open too."

Saying nothing, Guile kept scanning the surroundings for the inn. He needed more attention to find what he was searching for. The buildings around were all cubical in shapes, and what differed them was only the number of story they had. They either had one or two stories.

 _The number of story could be a good indicator for where the inn is_ , he thought. An inn was for travelers to live in, and it had to be taller than regular houses to hold more people. Using that logic, he stopped walking when he spotted a three-story building. He was correct. Above the mahogany door, a huge wooden plank with the word 'Inn' etched upon it rested.

Seeing that, he turned, walked toward the door, and stopped before it.

_Knock, knock, knock._

No answer.

_Knock, knock, knock._

There was still no answer.

It appeared that he had to use his old trick now. Calmly, he grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

_Click, click, click._

The door wouldn't open!

Guile still struggled to turn the doorknob, hoping that the door would soon open.

"Ya lunkhead!" Marco suddenly laughed from behind. "People here lock the door!"

Viktor added, "Yeah, the reason why you managed to open a door earlier was because Marco didn't lock it!"

"Fine," Guile replied, releasing the doorknob from his grasp and clenching his free fist. "I would just knock it down."

"Hold it, son," Viktor called out. "Think before you act."

"Thinking is unnecessary for this simple problem," Guile responded calmly. "When there's an unavoidable obstacle, you just have to remove it if you wish to go on."

"Before you break the door, son, are you sure that there's no other way to remove the obstacle other than using brute strength?" Viktor asked, smirking. "Or maybe you wanna listen to my idea?"

Guile looked at his master. Upon noticing the smile on Viktor's face, he thought that there was actually another way to get into the inn. It should be related to Viktor himself, but he had no idea how.

A moment of thinking and analyzing finally gave him an answer. Viktor was a wizard, and with magic, he should be able to pick a lock like a thief.

Stepping aside with his gaze still at Viktor's face, he said, "Master, this should be your work."

"Heh, I know you can do it, son." Viktor took a step forward. "You're smart, but sometimes you just don't think." Pointing at the keyhole on the doorknob, he exclaimed. "Thunder Arrow!"

Knowing what would happen soon, Guile shrugged. "You're breaking the door as well."

"I don't think so," Viktor replied playfully. Orbs of crackling electricity gathered in front of his index finger, merging into a tiny arrow of lightning.

Viktor had a bull's eye indeed. The little dart entered the keyhole, causing threads of smoke to come out from the aperture.

"I only fry the lock," he said, turning the smoky doorknob to the side. With a click, the passage was now clear.

Guile entered the inn with Viktor and Marco, only to find a wide-eyed, green-skinned imp staring at them whilst standing between a counter and a shelf full of wine bottles.


	5. Conflict

**1014 AD, Medina Inn**

"Man, this is horrible!" the imp yelled. "I'll lose all my guests if they know that you're here!"

"Quit yer babbling, Hugo!" Marco walked toward the counter. "This guy isn't a monster. That's just bullshit from stupid people out there."

Hugo leapt repeatedly like a spring behind the counter. "Marco, you don't make any sense!"

"If ya know him closer, ya ain't gonna complain about that. He's a nice guy."

"Kick that monster outta here, Marco! I won't ask the chef to cook your fish if you don't!"

Marco grabbed Hugo by his neck and lifted him up into the air. "I'd better introduce ya to him, little imp." Still holding the green-skinned creature with a hand, Marco carried him over the counter before walking toward Guile.

Looking at this, Guile didn't feel right. Marco should have good intention, but his way of introducing Hugo was just…inappropriate. Hugo had only attacked verbally, while Marco had resorted into using physical strength as retaliation. But that wasn't what that sparked an uneasy feeling in him; instead, the fact that a giant fisherman was lifting an imp with the size of a man's forearm ticked him off.

"Sir, let him go," he muttered. "It isn't fair if you use your brawn on this little imp."

"He wants me to kick ya out, so why play nice with him?"

"He hasn't used physical force to attack any of us. Besides, you're like picking on a child."

"Bah, I can't understand ya, mate," Marco said in an exasperated tone. He shook Hugo and screamed directly into his ears, "Ya hear that, Hugo? This guy is too nice to be a monster!"

Hugo squinted at the loud volume of Marco's voice.

Seeing Marco's attitude toward the imp, Guile began to lose his patience. With a fierce look on his face, he demanded sternly, "Let him go now, Marco."

Marco put Hugo down and stared at him. "Now, listen up, little imp! I let ya go 'cuz the one you call 'monster' asks for it! So be nice to him!"

Shivering with a gaping mouth, Hugo looked at Guile, before turning to Marco and returning his attention to Guile again. "Are you just pretending to be nice to me or what? I don't trust you." He frowned.

Before Guile could react, he saw Marco raising his fist above Hugo's head. Instinctively, he dashed and caught Marco's arm with a hand of his.

"That's enough, Marco."

"Sheesh! You're a marshmallow, Guile." Marco pulled back his arm and took a step backward. "Somebody like this needs a good clobberin'."

"That is only fair if he attacks us _and_ isn't this small."

"Guess ya wanna get beaten too."

All of a sudden, Viktor appeared between Guile and Marco. Spreading his arms, he said, "Stop fighting! Avoid unnecessary fights!"

With his gaze still at Marco, Guile replied, "We are just _arguing_ , master."

Viktor glanced at Marco, before looking at Guile again. "Both of you are about to fight already." He scowled. "Can't you solve little problems like this with a negotiation?"

"Bah, that's stupid." Marco spitted. "Everything should be settled with fists whenever possible."

"There are times I won't negotiate either," Guile responded flatly, closing his eyes. "Once the foes have shown how dangerous they are, I'll fight back." He continued, "I see nothing wrong with walloping those who are being unfair as well." He opened his eyes and gave Marco a death glare.

"Whaddaya want?" Marco asked in a brash, challenging tone. "A fight?"

Guile let out a 'humph' and turned away. Although he wanted to punch the fisherman on the face, he knew that doing so would only start an unnecessary problem.

"Okay, okay, I assume that you won't make a mess, so I'll ask the chef to cook those fish," a squeaky voice said. "Anyway, if I ever catch you smashing stuff like the monster everybody keeps talking about, get the hell outta here."

**1014 AD, Outskirts of Medina**

Sitting on the clearing of the grassland, he watched his little brothers slumbering in two tattered sleeping bags with their heads bandaged. It might take a long time for them to wake up, judging from the injuries they received earlier. The moment he found them, they were lying on the uneven grassy ground, unconscious while bleeding out from their heads.

With a hand on the hilt of his sheathed broadsword, he growled. He wasn't happy about what happened to his little brothers. If he could find who had hurt his siblings, he would like to cut that person down.

Unfortunately, he had no clue of what actually had happened. It was very illogical for him. He had instructed those two guys to only rob the weak like children and elders, and how could they get beaten up?

He soon discarded those thoughts out of illogicality.

Upon doing so, he realized that there was something more important than revenge now. With his siblings incapacitated, he would need to find more cash to keep up with their expenditure. He probably had to take more risk; instead of preying on the weak, he had better off robbing the people at Medina. That should be harder, but more rewarding.

However, he was doubtful. This was a meadow, and beasts might just exist. There was no guarantee that his injured siblings could defend themselves from ferocious animals.

He remained still on the rough, uneven ground, deep in thoughts. There should be a way to solve both of those issues at once.

No, there wasn't. If he stayed to take care of his brothers, he would delay his plan of robbery, which would reduce his income. However, if he went to Medina to 'work', he would risk his siblings' lives.

He had to sacrifice something.

It wasn't easy to make a decision. After spending about three minutes for thinking, he made up his mind to go robbing first. Hopefully, he could earn much money that way, which would help them fulfill their bare necessities in the future.

**1014 AD, Medina Inn**

Guile was sitting at a round table with Viktor and Marco, waiting for the food.

Waiting was such a boring thing, especially when nobody was in the mood to talk. Trying to kill his boredom, he looked around to observe his surroundings. Who knew that there was something interesting?

No, there was nothing that truly caught his attention. A bar was just a bar; it always had tables, chairs, and hanging lamps.

The only thing that bothered him was the emptiness in the tavern. Unlike his assumptions, the bar wasn't terribly crowded. This should be related to his nickname: monster.

Hmph, sometimes people were ignorant; Guile thought. They just liked judging a book by its cover, which was a bad thing. Truth be told, Guile didn't like hurting someone for no reason; instead, he preferred helping those in need when there was the chance. Unfortunately, that opportunity never came to him, which hindered his attempt to show his heart of gold.

Sitting still, he closed his eyes, covered his mouth with a hand, and yawned. Sometimes life was just confusing, annoying, and tiresome.

Perhaps not. Once the sweet fragrance of butter and herbs stroked his nose, he opened his eyes and smiled. At least in life, he had the chance to taste delicious food.

Soon, he could see Hugo placing a big plate of grilled fish fillets on the table. The frown on the imp's face informed Guile that the green-skinned creature didn't seem to be happy with him.

Or perhaps, Hugo always looked like that? After all, he did let him eat in the inn.

Curious, Guile locked his eyes at Hugo, who didn't even return the glance. The imp simply walked away without saying anything.

Hmph, whatever happened, happened. Why should he care about people's reactions when he had something better to do? The food was ready, and now was the time to excite his tongue and comfort his stomach.

As he looked at the smoky grilled fish fillets, he reached out his hand to pick one up. But he soon decided to pull his arm back. It wasn't because it was too hot for him to lay a single finger on; instead, he figured out that he had better let the others take some first. He knew that if he had started eating, he couldn't stop until the food depleted.

Arms crossed, he sat still and leaned against the chair's backrest.

"Why didn't ya take some?" Marco suddenly asked, holding a fork above the fish fillets. "I have a big appetite, telling ya."

Guile only smiled. "You'd better take some first, Marco. It would be very dangerous if you let me eat now."

"Hmph, okay, I'm gonna eat until I'm full. This means that I won't leave ya anything!"

What the heck? Guile's stomach was already growling, and now, he probably wouldn't get anything to eat if he didn't act fast!

"Excuse me." He snatched the plate with both of his hands and placed it on his lap. Quickly, he grabbed one, gobbled it, picked up another one, and devoured it, and so on.

Eyes widening with a fillet skewered on his fork, Viktor screamed, "Manners, Guile! Manners!"

With a fillet in his mouth and draping down his chin, Guile spoke in a muffled voice, "Uh, sorry." He placed the plate of fish back on the table. "I couldn't resist."

"Bah, what should I do?" Marco placed a palm on his face. "When I said I'd eat all, you got provoked."

Guile slurped the whole fillet into his mouth, chewing it afterwards. "Leave some for me then," he uttered. "That's the best-"

An uncomfortable sensation suddenly built up within his neck, causing him to cough several times. At this, he found himself unable to talk and breathe. No matter how hard he tried to inhale, he couldn't take some air in. There was something blocking his throat.

"That's why, son. Don't talk when you're eating! You'll choke on the food!" Viktor snapped, before looking at Marco. "Wrap your arms along his stomach from the back, Marco. Then push upward as hard as possible."

"Geez, what a strange idea," Marco complained. "How can that help him?"

"That'll push the food out of him! And now…" Viktor pointed at Guile and shouted, "DO IT FAST!"

Marco shrugged. "Hmph, still a strange idea." He stood up and walked past Guile. "But that's what I gotta do to save ya."

At this moment, Guile bowed a bit as he coughed continuously. He smacked his own chest repeatedly in an attempt to alleviate his coughing, but to no avail.

"Quickly!"

"Be patient, old man!"

Guile stopped hitting his chest and nodded, hoping to tell that he agreed with Marco. He could still last for a few minutes without breathing, and there was no reason to be that hasty.

But nobody cared.

Suddenly, he could feel a tight grip on the area between his ribcage and his stomach.

"Yeah, here we go!"

A crushing pressure from his stomach to his lungs caused him to cough hard and send a saliva-coated lump of crushed meat rocketing out of his mouth.

With nothing blocking his throat now, he breathed in and out very quickly. The moment of unable to breathe had made him hungry for fresh air.

"It worked," Marco said from behind, before delivering a friendly smack to Guile's back. "You're safe now, mate." He returned to his seat.

"How sloppy you are, son!" Viktor scolded. "That can kill you in a few minutes!"

"That is quite a long time, master," Guile replied calmly. "You should try to be more relaxed."

Viktor placed a palm on his face and sighed.

Through that expression, Guile could tell that his master wasn't happy. There might something wrong with his words…

Hmph, why should Guile care anyway? His master was a moody old man at times, and he knew that Viktor would smile again moments later.

He had another reason not to mind about it. His stomach needed more attention now. The thick, sauce-coated fillets in front of him looked mouthwatering, even though they had choked him earlier.

Well, it was his fault though. If he hadn't talked, he shouldn't have gone through that trouble.

He reached out his hand to grab a fillet.

Smack!

A sudden hit to his wrist stopped him from taking anything.

It wasn't difficult to guess who did that. From his experience, Guile knew that Viktor hardly ever used physical force on him, while Marco was the other way round.

He stared at Marco, who returned his glare and yelled: "Breaking yer promise, eh? Ya asked me to leave some fer ya!"

Guile nodded and retracted his arm. Arguing or insisting on taking the fish would only start an unnecessary fight with the boisterous man.

He spent some time sitting still, staring vacantly at the nearly empty plate. It held nothing but three palm-sized fillets and some small puddles of soy sauce now.

What annoyed Guile now was that Marco kept picking up a fillet and ate it. If the man kept on doing that, there wouldn't be anything left for Guile!

As he saw Marco holding a fork above the last fillet, he quickly snatched the meat and shoved it into his mouth.

"Godammit, Guile!" Marco snapped, glaring at Guile.

Guile ignored Marco and continued munching the fillet, savoring the sweet fragrance of it with his tongue.

As he swallowed the crushed meat down, he noticed two not-so-nice things around him. Marco was gritting his teeth in anger, while Viktor was shaking his head with a palm on his face.

Without saying anything, Guile sat still and leaned against the chair, arms crossed and eyes closed. It wasn't his fault; instead, Marco was the one who started it. If the man hadn't eaten until there was almost nothing left for Guile, then he wouldn't need to nab the last piece of fillet.

The tranquility didn't last long. He could soon hear someone yelling aloud directly into his ears: "Greedy monster!"

He opened a droopy eye to see Marco staring at him.

"I am not that," he said calmly, shrugging and closing his eye. "You are gluttonous." He sighed. "You broke your promise not to eat all the fillets, and you still put the blame on me? I was just taking the last piece you were supposed to leave for me."

He seemed to have gained an upper hand with his words; there was no reply from Marco afterwards. It was a usual reaction from this brash man whenever he felt guilty.

Bowing his head a little, Guile spent some time dozing on the chair. There was nothing to do other than napping for now. His stomach was trembling and growling softly, and he considered snoozing would relieve his rowdy tummy better than staying awake.

His sleep didn't last very long. An ear-splitting shout snapped him out of his slumber.

"Hands up, people! Gimme your money and I'll let you go!"

The yell wasn't just loud; it was also adrenaline-inducing. There seemed to be a robber, and it would be a pleasure to fend the thug off.

Opening his eyes, Guile stood up slowly and turned his attention to the exit door of the inn, which was now wide open. A man in a brown leather suit was standing with a steel broadsword in his hands, his cape billowing by the breeze.

Guile's presence drew the thug's attention. The robber was now staring at him with a pair of slit eyes.

"You're that infamous monster, aren't you? I'm not afraid of you!" the thug yelled.

Hearing that, Guile gave out a sinister grin; a smirk that showed his excitement toward the incoming fight against a daring man.

That wicked smile was demoralizing for the would-be robber. The man gulped, taking a step back with his mouth ajar and beads of sweat trickling down his temple.

"Were you just bluffing earlier?" Guile asked calmly, still sporting a mischievous grin.

The thug lowered his sword and closed his eyes. "Whatever. How about a deal?"

Guile raised an eyebrow; he didn't understand what the man was talking about.

"This sword is sharp, and I can still hurt you," the man continued. "But we can avoid injuries and the likes. If you give me money, I'll leave immediately. I need it."

"Well, you should've made a more polite entrance, boy," Viktor said, walking past Guile and stopping between him and the thug. He inserted a hand into a pocket on his trousers, pulling a small leather sack out of it afterwards.

All of a sudden, Marco grabbed the back of Viktor's collar and pulled him backward. "Old man, what the hell are you doing? No need to waste money just for this."

"I have to," Viktor replied calmly. "This will save everybody from troubles."

"You're a nice person, gramps," the thug said, sheathing his sword and walking toward Viktor. "I wish I can get more though. I have two injured siblings I must look after. With this money, I can help them."

"This is all I have, boy." Viktor handed the leather sack to the man. "Now, leave and spend the money wisely."

After taking the pouch, the man turned away with a smile on his face. "Thanks."

"Idiot! You're wasting money for nothing, old man!" Marco yelled, shoving Viktor away and rushing toward the man. He raised a fist, ready to crush the so-called thug's head with it. "I'm gonna kill this guy now."

Looking at Guile, Viktor commanded, "Stop him, son!"

Guile leapt into the air and glided toward Marco. In a flash, he put his arms over Marco's broad shoulders by going under the man's armpits.

"Let me go!" Marco demanded loudly, shaking his entire body in an attempt to break free from Guile's grip. "Your master has wasted money for him, y'know?"

Guile didn't know what to do now. Should he stop his newly-found friend just because his master asked him to do so? Or should he disobey his master for the money and his friend's sake?

Looking at Viktor, Guile asked, "Master, is this the right thing to do?"

Viktor nodded, but soon, his eyes widened in shock. "Look out, son!"

Guile let out a confused 'huh', but soon, he knew what had caused his master to behave like that. His lack of focus had earned him a swift headbutt to the face, knocking him off balance. In a moment of daze, his grip on Marco loosened, allowing the man to chase the thug down.

"Marco, that's enough!" Viktor yelled in desperation. "Just let him go! That man needs money more than I do!"

But Marco didn't care. He kept running to track down the robber.

"Son, stop him! Don't let him hurt that innocent man!"

Hearing that, Guile jumped into the air and flicked his feet, joining the chase with the belief that his master was always right. If Viktor wanted to help the so-called thug, then Marco had to be stopped at all costs.

It didn't take too long for him to catch up with Marco. In a flash, he rammed Marco with his body and sent the man falling flat on his stomach.

"Stop messing around with me!" Marco snapped, placing his palms on the ground to support his body. "That man doesn't need your money!"

Noticing Marco's attempt to get up, Guile had no choice but to do something he didn't like. It would save the so-called thug and please his master, but it would require his friend's life.

"I'm sorry."

Within a split-second, he stomped the back of Marco's neck, emitting a loud crack as his sole met the bones beneath the skin.

The area around him became devoid of sound as Marco laid face-first on the ground. The usually loud and brash Marco spoke no more, nor did he move a single muscle. He remained still with his eyes closed.

Guile had killed Marco.

All of a sudden, a loud shout broke the silence.

"What have you done?"

Guile turned, only to see Viktor looking at him with a pair of widening, tearful eyes.

Stepping backward, he muttered, "I killed him. If I didn't, he might kill that man."

"You…" Viktor stole a quick glance at Marco's lifeless body, before glaring at Guile. "You monster! I was trying to save everybody!"

"But I…" Guile paused. Moments later, he spoke aloud, "I can't save them both! If I didn't kill Marco, he'd harm that man!"

"Can't you think, brainless monster?" Viktor yelled, grabbing Guile by his collar and pulling him closer to the point their noses met. "You can just hold Marco back! That won't harm anybody!"

His master was right; Guile thought. At this, tears of anger and sorrow were welling in his eyes. If he had spent more time thinking, he might have done what Viktor had just said.

Unfortunately, it was too late now. There was no way a dead man could return to life, was there?

"Master, t-this is my fault," Guile stammered. "If I h-hadn't been that rash, this s-shouldn't have happened!"

"You're damn right!" Viktor snapped, shoving Guile away so forcefully that he tumbled backward and fell on his bottom. Turning around, Viktor said, "I shouldn't have brought you up. Or better, I shouldn't have created you." As he was walking away, he added, "If I hadn't been stupid enough to create you, I shouldn't have lost my wife and my daughter."

Guile stood up and followed his master by foot. He would have nowhere to go if Viktor didn't care about him anymore.

Unfortunately, Viktor only said, "Don't follow me, beast."

That remark was like a knife plunged into his heart. He wished that it was a literal dirk instead, so that he wouldn't feel this painful. He wasn't immune to emotional pain.

He fell to his knees as he looked at the shrinking silhouette of his master. With his vacant gaze locked on the ground, he let his tears trickle down to the earth beneath him.

He had nobody to rely on anymore.


End file.
